Inquisition Revision
by verbal acuity
Summary: D/H - Draco abuses his power as Prefect and Inquisitorial Squad member when he catches Potter out after hours - oneshot.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, I'm just borrowing the characters for a few hours for amusement.

A/N: I was requested to write Inquisitorial Squad!Draco/Harry smut. Or something. So, this is what I came up with. This is my first time writing a full Harry Potter fic, and I'm worried that this is horrible, so be nice? :D

WARNINGS: bondage, spanking, d/s, slash, sex, kink.

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><p>INQUISITION REVISION<p>

"_Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," Draco drawled, sinister smirk curling his lips. "You see I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."_

"_Yeah," Potter replied with more confidence than Draco would like to realize, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."_

Draco remembered that well. And since then, he was always hot on Potter's tail, watching his every move for reason to get him in detention. Every other Gryffindor got off with fifty points taken from their House. But the second Potter steps out of line he'll be punished. Draco would have such a good time, he wouldn't even deduct House points.

Joining Professor Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad helped matters. He had a second badge that gave him permission to do as he pleased when he pleased, so long as he was putting bad students in their place. And Draco knew better than anyone how much Umbridge hated Harry Potter. So Draco was extra special in her book.

"Harry, you _can't_!"

That shrill voice could only belong to one person.

"She's right, mate. Your hand has gotten worse. Keep getting detentions with Umbridge and it'll scar."

Granger and Weasley. Idiots, talking right in the hallway, could be overheard by anyone. But what was wrong with Potter's hand?

"She won't catch me this time. Besides, I've already got detention the rest of this week and the next, what's one more?" There was laughter in his voice, with a touch of strain. Draco was curious beyond belief.

"_Harry_!"

"Go back up to the Tower. I don't need you guys carrying the same pain as me. See you tonight!" At the sound of footsteps nearing, Draco ducked behind a convenient tapestry and waited for Potter to pass, but he never showed. Only footsteps alerted him to the direction he was headed to. But how…

Fuck, the footsteps were gone and he'd lost Potter.

Draco growled in frustration and continued his patrol. There was no way he'd find Potter now. He followed along every corridor that had a place he thought Potter would visit, but he was nowhere to be seen. Until finally, he found that the door leading to the Owlery in the West Tower was open a crack. Narrowing his eyes, he crept up the steps and peeked through the door.

He wasn't surprised to see Harry Potter leaning on the railing, Snowy owl on his left arm while he tied a small scroll to it's leg. He gently kissed it's head, gave it a pet, and then lifted his arm. "Go on, Hedwig," he whispered. "Be safe. Give Snuffles a nip for me, okay?" And the owl flew off into the night.

Before Potter could disappear again, Draco opened the door the rest of the way and walked in. "Well, Potter, look who's out after hours. All letters are supposed to be checked, you are aware. Now it's a matter of giving you detention or simply deducting one hundred House points from Gryffindor… what shall it be?"

Potter looked so shocked, first at being caught, and next at the threat of losing so many House points.

"Malfoy, please—"

"Begging already. I could get used to this. One hund—"

"Detention, please!" he nearly shouted, trying his best not to draw his wand. "Please. Just don't take so many House points. I'll do your detention. I'll clean whatever disgusting mess you can concoct. Just don't take all those points."

Draco smirked and took a step forward. "Now that's what I wanted to hear, Potter. Come with me."

* * *

><p>Harry instantly regretted the promise to do anything Malfoy said. How stupid could he be, putting himself at the mercy of an enemy. And Malfoy was an enemy, that grew more and more evident every day he saw him. But he was also a coward. Was he brave enough to do to Harry what Harry feared? If anything, he'd give him to Umbridge to let her scar his hand more. And then she'd take points and Harry would have lost the point of this charade.<p>

"Where are we going?" he found himself asked when he was following a familiar path. They were headed towards the Slytherin dungeons, but Harry wasn't allowed in there. He'd be destroyed, without Hermione or Ron to back him in lieu of an ambush.

Malfoy was vague when he answered, "A place to punish you."

"You mean you're not taking me to Umbridge?" The laugh he received in return was alarming and wicked. Malfoy never turned to face him, only led him along until the quietly muttered password opened the wall and let them in. He assumed Malfoy would make him wait in the common room while he summoned his Housemates, but when he wasn't told to stay, but to keep following, he near panicked when they left the common room and headed towards a downward staircase. "Malfoy?"

"Do you ever shut up, Potter? I reckon you don't because your mouth seems incapable of staying shut." Malfoy stopped to look back at Harry. "No matter, Potty. We'll put that mouth to good use. Come along." He continued down the staircase, his retreating back fading in the dim candlelight. Harry followed, though reluctant.

Harry's mouth remained shut for the rest of the walk. He didn't want his mouth to be 'put to good use'. All he wanted to do was send Hedwig off to deliver a letter to Sirius and head to bed. He hadn't intended on being caught. He checked before leaving. No one was around the direction he needed to go to get to the West Tower. Filch was in the North Tower and Mrs. Norris was wandering around the third floor. He had no idea where Malfoy came from. But now he was in trouble.

The candles got dimmer and dimmer the further down they went until he could barely see Malfoy anymore. He resisted the urge to cast a _Lumos_, knowing it would probably anger the pointy git more. Instead he contemplated ways of getting out of this. If he turned now, Malfoy would definitely hear his ascent of the stairs and hex him into submission. But if he didn't, House points would be taken and he couldn't imagine the looks on his friends' faces when he entered the Great Hall. Especially Seamus, who he was already walking on thin ice with. He didn't need anymore hostility in their shared dorm. Besides, Umbridge would question why and he'd have two more weeks' detention, on top of the two weeks he has already. It was a lose-lose situation.

"I'm surprised, Potty." Malfoy's voice startled him in the eerie silence. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realize he was close to running into a halted Malfoy. "You've kept your mouth shut. Keep it that way." He muttered a password too quiet for Harry to hear and the portrait door swung open. He motioned Harry inside and Harry followed reluctantly.

Unfamiliar voices murmured around them before the door shut. "A Gryffindor?" one said. "I wonder what your father would think!"

"At least it's not a Hufflepuff!" another laughed loudly, sinisterly. "He'd be disowned!"

Their voices were cut off as the door shut, the locking sound reverberating throughout the huge room. The walls were a smoky grey color, Harry noted, as he looked around. There was a huge four-poster bed in the center, the bedding a rich green with silver embroidering around the fabric. The dresser in the far right of the room was black with a huge mirror attached to the top. Snakes were carved along the wood and Harry wondered if some secret passage would open if he spoke Parseltongue to the carvings.

Next to the bed stood a nightstand, black to match the dresser, with snake-shaped handles. He realized belatedly that the embroidering in the comforter on the bed was a silver dragon; it stood out well with everything else having been snakes.

He turned back to Malfoy, only to find him not in front of him anymore. Almost panicking at having let his enemy out of sight, Harry turned.

"_Accio_ Potter's wand!" Malfoy called from behind him and Harry desperately tried to grasp the wand in his pocket before it was taken, but he was too late. Malfoy had his only weapon. The smirk on his face when he turned to him was absolutely disgusting. "Well, well, Potter," he taunted, smacking both their wants across his palm as he circled Harry. "Not too bright, though we've always known that... just letting me take your wand from you. What shall we do with you?"

Harry glared, refusing to back down. "Give it here, Malfoy," he seethed, fists clenching at his sides. Malfoy chuckled darkly, eyeing Harry unashamedly up and down.

"I don't think I will. I think I like you like this, as a matter of fact." He stepped up behind him, his chest nearly touching Harry's back. Breathing in his ear, he whispered, "Harry Potter, helpless and at my mercy..." He stepped away again and Harry felt he missed the warmth. "Strip."

Harry whirled around, eyes wide and wild. "_What_?"

"Stupid and deaf." Malfoy rolled his eyes, smacking the wands against his palm again. "Strip. The sooner you do, the sooner your punishment will end and you are free." There was a wicked glint in his eye that had Harry stepping back. "Actually, no. Draw this out, Potter. I'd like to see you squirm. Now, _strip_."

Deliberately slow, Harry removed his robe and trousers and shirt, but left his pants on. He kicked the rest aside, feeling more exposed than he ever wanted to be in front of someone as slimy as Draco Malfoy. He shivered in the cold of the dungeons, noticing belatedly that the fireplace was lit, the only warmth being the dim candles; he was grateful it wasn't brighter in here, lest Malfoy see his embarrassed flush.

"Pants, too."

Harry's eyes silently pleaded, but Malfoy's stern expression told him he wouldn't be getting this one reprieve. He slipped his pants off and stood naked as the day he was born, trembling both in fright and cold. He hoped this was the extent of his punishment, but he was wrong.

"On the bed, Potty," Malfoy drawled, eyes raking appreciatively along his small body. "On your knees, hands gripping the headboard. I don't have all night," he added when Harry didn't move.

Degraded and frightened, Harry did as he was told, hands gripping the headboard so tightly his knuckles turned white. He prayed this torment would end soon. He almost wished Malfoy would have given him to Umbridge, because at least then he'd be fully clothed and less embarrassed. He waited.

Malfoy elongated Harry's Gryffindor tie and used it to tie his wrists to the headboard. They weren't spread out like they had been before, so his balance on his knees wobbled but he couldn't fall.

"I have a dilemma, Potter." Malfoy grasped Harry's chin and turned him to face him. Angry, frightened green eyes met cold and wicked grey. "I only have my one tie... and I don't know whether I should blindfold or gag you. You see, I want to see your ashamed tears... but I also want to hear your terrified, pained screams. No one can hear you down here. When I became a prefect, my father bought this room just for me. So you could scream and scream... and even if someone chanced to hear you, they wouldn't think anything of it. You're in snake territory now." His fingers tightened on Harry's chin, thumb gently tracing his lips and jawline. "So which would you prefer?"

Harry growled in response and Malfoy delivered a harsh smack to Harry's arse. He whimpered in return, cringing away from the blow.

"Blindfold it is," Malfoy said cheerily, stepping back to remove his tie. "You'll make beautiful noises, Potter." Harry shook his head, trying to get away from the tie, but he knew it was no use. He was tied in place and had nowhere to go. The green and silver striped tie covered his vision and all went black. He couldn't see a thing anymore and that was what scared him the most; he wouldn't know what Malfoy was going to do.

"Malfoy, please," he attempted, but another smack to his arse shut him up.

"Don't make me gag you, too. Though," he mused, and Harry could picture him tapping his chin in thought. "You could be hot like that..." Harry shook his head, making sure to keep quiet. "But, no. I'd like to hear the pain. _Incarcerous_!" Ropes clung to Harry's calves, pinning them harshly to the bed. He wished he hadn't spread his knees before to keep his balance when his hands were forced together, because now he was entirely exposed to Malfoy. The minimal movement he was allowed was just a slight back arch when another slap was delivered. That one seemed rougher than the previous and he whined low in his throat. "I've decided that you're hot like this, too, Potter. Opened up wide for me perusal. Don't be afraid to scream."

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><p>Potter like this was... beautiful. Draco had no other description for it. He squirmed just the right when when he laid a slap to his arse and arched when he trailed a fingernail down his spine. The noises he made were arousing and he almost wished he didn't have to draw this out. He wanted Potter, and he wanted him now. But this was punishment. He'd make him beg him to stop and he'd make him beg him for more. And Draco would do neither until Potter was a sobbing, quivering mess of need, begging for the pain at the same time he was begging for it to stop.<p>

Trailing his fingernail once more down Potter's spine, Draco teased the crack of his arse when he reached the end. His round bottom clenched around the tip of his finger and Potter tried to pull forward, away from the intrusion, to no avail.

"Look at you, Potter," Draco whispered, climbing in between Potter's legs on the bed and laying atop him, clothed chest to bare back. His teeth grazed his ear and the Boy-Who-Lived shivered in what Draco assumed was either anticipation or fear. "All spread and exposed to me." He used both hands to pry Potter's arse cheeks apart and pressed his clothed arousal against the bare arse and ground in. Potter whined. "Do you like that?" A whimper was his answer and he smirked, pulling back just as he could feel Potter's own erection growing. "Well we can't have that, can we? This is about punishment, not pleasure. My pleasure, though, is inevitable."

Draco climbed off the bed and opened the top drawer of the nightstand. He pulled from it a wooden paddle and a thin black riding crop. Potter's blindfold was still in place, so he had no idea what was in store when Draco climbed back onto the bed. A fourth slap was laid upon that reddening arse and Potter squirmed where he was bound. Draco found that he liked the redness of that pert, round arse and leaned down to press a kiss against one swollen cheek. Potter jumped uncontrollable and Draco grasped his right hip to still him. "Easy, Potter. Don't need to breaking my bed with your hostile movements."

Retreating slightly from Potter's glorious arse, Draco slid back to a good distance on the bed that would allow him good, solid hits. "Now," he said. "I want to hear you scream. Loud and clear. I want you sobbing under me, do you understand? You will answer 'yes, sir', or your punishment will be drawn out. _Do you understand_?"

"Y-yes, sir," Potter said quietly, clearly ashamed and embarrassed he'd allowed to be put in this situation.

"Good."

With a _whoosh_! the riding crop came flying down and whipped against Potter's already red arse. An angry red line appeared almost instantly and Potter gasped. His mouth was wide in a silent scream and his back arched so beautifully that Draco didn't wait for the pain to dissipate before laying another smack of the crop down onto the other cheek. Another gasp and Potter was panting now, his voice lost and Draco found that he couldn't wait until Potter found his voice. The third whip of the crop landed on the backs of his thighs, followed by another instant slap against his lower back. Sound was coming from those perfect lips now, quiet whimpers and whines and tiny screams the harder and more he hit. Draco was addicted.

He didn't stop the whipping until his hardest slap yet echoed throughout the dungeon room and a scream was torn from Potter's probably sore throat. "_Please_!" he cried, thrashing in his bonds and wishing for relief.

The crop dropped onto the side of the bed and Draco quickly undressed, leaving himself as bare as Potter beneath him. He eyed his work, loving the bloody lines marring Potter's otherwise perfect flesh and crawled over him. He kissed his shoulder blade where a bloody mark began and traced his tongue all the way down his back, licking the blood away. Potter hissed and tried to twist away from the pain but his binds prevented that; he whimpered instead when Draco pulled away.

"We're not finished, Potter," he said into his ear before slipping off the bed. "But I want to see those tears that are soaking my tie." He removed the blindfold and was instantly met with bright, pained green eyes that he realized he'd been missing all this time. He regretted blindfolding him, now, because he would have liked to see the pain flash in those pools each crack of the crop. "Beautiful," he whispered and leaned in to taste the salt. Potter cringed back and Draco smirked, pulling away and walking back to the side to grab the paddle.

There was no warning before Draco smacked the wood against Potter's left arse cheek and the boy trembling beneath him screamed in shock, back arching and trying to cringe away from the burning sensation. More tears fell and Draco delighted in seeing them; seeing the way he was breaking Harry Potter, forcing him into submission and claiming him.

More smacks against that arse and more screams reverberating around the room and nearly choking Potter in his sobs. He was crying so hard, now, Draco's arousal at full mast and leaking, begging to be touched, but he ignored it because he wanted to feel Potter's tight heat around him. He ached more and more for release when, suddenly, Potter's scream turned into a moan when he smacked a little lower than he had before. The paddle dropped to the flood and Draco reached around to Potter's front and grasped something hard and leaking. A smirk crept onto his features and he squeezed experimentally. Potter arched into the touch.

"Look, Potter," Draco taunted. "You're hard. You _like_ this, you little slut, don't you?" He pumped his hand up and down the evident arousal teasingly a couple times before letting go completely and Potter whined low in his throat, wanting more of that pleasure. "Oh, no, no, Potty. My pleasure comes first, remember?"

Amused and turned on and cleverly sadistic, Draco grasped both arse cheeks in both hands, squeezing and kneading and loving the pained whimpers turned aroused moans that flowed from those chewed and swollen lips. He pressed his own neglected cock against those burning arse cheeks and ground into the hot flesh there. Potter whined and shook and squirmed, but only managed to add to the friction and Draco let out a long, drawn out moan at the pleasure.

"Yes," he moaned, throwing his head back and grinding harder. "That's it, keep squirming, Potter. Feels so good." Potter stilled and Draco smirked, taking control again and slipping his cock into the crack and rubbing slowly while his thumbs spread the cheeks.

Potter shook his head, voice raspy when he spoke. "Please, stop," he groaned, biting his lip against the moan threatening to slip out. Draco kissed and licked his sweaty neck instead, causing Potter to involuntarily tilt his head to grant better access.

"That's it," he said against the flesh he marked with his teeth. "This is mine." He bit down harshly and Potter screamed, aching back arching into Draco's smooth, unmarred chest. He trailed a hand up Potter's shaking side and teased those gorgeous lips open with his thumb and forefinger, slipping his fore and middle fingers inside. "Suck," he demanded and Potter, without a choice, did as asked. "Mm, wonder what that tongue would feel like on my cock... If I untied your hands, would you behave?"

Potter nodded, though reluctantly. Draco growled and pulled his fingers from Potter's mouth, smacking an arse cheek roughly with his other hand. "What was that?"

"Yes, _sir_," he replied, drooping his head down in shame.

"Good boy." He untied Potter's hands and muttered, "_Finite Incantatum_," to release the binds around his calves. "Slide back so your feet touch the foot of the bed," he growled, taking both the Gryffindor and Slytherin ties and using them both to tie Potter's ankles to the endboard of the bed, legs still spread. "On your hands and knees again, quickly." Potter did as told and Draco slid onto the bed in front of him, his arousal in line with Potter's mouth. "Suck," he said, slipping his fingers back into his mouth and almost moaning at the sensation of tongue and heat.

Potter was too good at this, Draco mused as he pulled his fingers away from that warm cavern. He lined his dick up with Potter's excellent mouth and Potter opened wide for Draco's girth and sucked the head into his mouth. Draco bit his lip to hold off the moan and regain control enough to lean over him. He slipped his saliva-slick forefinger into the crack of Potter's arse, teasing the hole and finding the entrance. Potter hissed around his dick and the feeling was so fucking perfect, he almost lost himself. He continued on, pressing the digit deeper until he could wriggle the whole finger around inside.

His arse clenched beautifully around his finger and he eagerly pressed the second in. Potter's tongue swirling around the head of his own cock was distracting and he found himself wondering why he didn't do this sooner. Potter was pure sex, all arches and whimpers and _need_ that turned Draco on beyond belief. He thrust his fingers the same time he thrust his hips and Potter's mouth opened all the more wide, accepting Draco's cock and sucking him greedily.

Twisting and angling his now three fingers just so, Potter arched and nearly screamed around Draco. He hit the spot he was looking for and got a better reaction than expected.

"Stop," he growled, removing his fingers from his arse and gripping Potter's hair with his other hand to pull him back. He pulled Potter into a kneeling position by the grip on his messy hair and leaned down, crashing their lips together roughly. Potter whimpered into his mouth but didn't just sit back and take it. He fought for dominance in Draco's mouth and Draco realized that that was better than an entirely submission Harry Potter. He was better when he refused defeat.

Draco's wand sat on the side of the bed; he grabbed it and vanished the ties keeping Potter's legs attached to the endboard and lifted him with surprising strength only to flip him onto his stomach near the head of the bed. He cast _Incarcerous_ on Potter's wrists to bind him to the headboard before shoving the same three fingers into Potter's already stretched hole, nothing to slick them this time. He spread him wide roughly, impatiently, and listened to those whimpers and whines and pleads for _more, please, just fuck me_.

With an animalistic growl, Draco _Accio_'d the lube from the nightstand, no longer wanting to fuck around with teasing and begging. Potter begged and now he shall receive.

He coated his cock with the cool gel and pressed non-too-gently inside, savoring Potter's hiss of pain. He was _tight_. It felt beyond amazing to be inside the heat after wanting this for so long. He'd wanted nothing more than Potter's submission and his humiliation and embarrassment. After Potter had denied Draco's friendship on the Hogwarts Express, Draco wanted to make his life hell. But now... Now, he wanted to claim Potter and make him beg and scream and demand and want and need and _feel_. Potter was his. The pants and the whimpers belonged to Draco. The clenching around his dick belonged to Draco. That fucking hot mouth belonged to Draco.

Harry Potter belonged to Draco Malfoy.

Potter's moans spurred Draco on and he thrust deep and hard, angling himself just right to hit that spot inside of Potter that makes him arch and scream and want. "Yes," Draco groaned when Potter's arse clenched wonderfully when he hit his prostate and rubbed against it for good measure. This high was glorious and he never wanted to come down. Potter was trembling; he could see it in his hands that gripped the headboard roughly. His knuckles were so white, but his grip never let up. His arms would give out if it wasn't for the ropes binding him in place.

"Fuck," Potter whimpered, his cock dripping onto Draco's bed but Draco didn't care because it was hot.

He wondered what it would be like to grip him and feel that heavy arousal and come between his fingers, but he wanted to know firsthand what it would be like to bring Potter off without even touching him. He wanted him to beg and cry and scream until he came, but Draco still wouldn't touch him because he wanted to know he could bring him off just by fucking him. His cock sliding in and out of that tight heat and the clenching and Draco was so fucking close. Potter was close, if the tightening constriction around Draco's cock was any indication.

"Come, Potter," he whispered in his ear, nipping and licking the lobe. "Fucking come, screaming my name. Clench around me and bring me to completion." He sucked Potter's earlobe into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth and making the boy beneath him groan and arch until he was coming in white hot spurts on Draco's bed. He rode out his pleasure with Draco's name on his tongue and his cock in his arse.

That final clench was what did Draco in and he came long and hard inside Potter, panting and collapsing onto the smaller body, pinning him beneath him on the soft bed. He kissed Potter's neck and pulled out, exhausted. He ended the spell and Potter collapsed face first when the ropes binding him released. Draco rolled onto his side and smirked at the tired expression on Potter's face. He brushed a few wayward locks from Potter's eyes and kissed his temple.

"Tired," Potter murmured and passed out beside Draco. He answered with a smirk, conjuring a blanket and sliding it over Potter's naked, overused body.

* * *

><p>Harry awoke in an empty, unfamiliar bed with his body aching everywhere he didn't know he had muscles. He shifted and hissed, instantly reminded by the pain in his back and arse what had happened last night. Malfoy beat him. Malfoy <em>fucked<em> him. There was no way he'd be able to look at the git again, without being reminded what happened between them. He just hoped he wouldn't tell anyone, and that last night was significant punishment so neither House points are taken, nor Umbridge finds out.

"Finally awake, Potty?" He started when a voice to his left spoke, groaning in pain when he sat up too fast. He automatically patted the bed beside him in search of his wand, but it wasn't there, and he remembered Malfoy had taken it. Fuck.

Malfoy was advancing towards him, a smirk on his pointy face. "What do you want, Malfoy? You punished me, now can I have my wand and go?" He dimly reminded himself that he should have said 'without you telling anyone about this,' but the thought slipped his mind when Malfoy crawled atop him and stole his breath in a kiss. He tried to push him off but all the thrashing about in his binds last night made the slightest movement in his arms an incredibly painful process. He settled for steeling himself and refusing to respond. That earned him a harsh bite to his chapped, abused bottom lip and he yelped, pulling back. "Malfoy?"

"You know, Potter, I don't think I want to let you go. At least not for good," he added as an afterthought at Harry's gaped mouth. "You were the best shag I've ever had and I don't think I want to lose that. Getting to call you mine and punish you however I please is just an added bonus." He pressed a chaste kiss to Harry's lips again before standing completely and stepping back from the bed. "I'll let you think, but while you're thinking, I think I'll remind you just how good it can be."

Harry blinked confused eyes up at Malfoy. "What do you mean 'remind me'?" he asked warily, inching back towards the headboard but hissing at the pain in his arse. Malfoy smirked and grasped his wrist, tugging him from the overly comfortable bed.

"Up, now," he said a little too cheerfully for Harry's tastes. "You can make your decision in the shower. With me, of course. Stop your dallying and let's go." Harry let himself be dragged and briefly wondered what Ron and Hermione were thinking, with Harry still having not gone back to the common room. But all that was torn from his frazzled mind when the cold shower wall pressed against the burning pain in his back, cooling it off and soothing it. Malfoy's lips descended on his and he forgot who Ron and Hermione even were.

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><p>Reviews would be lovely.<p> 


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